


Peculiar Tastes

by ScarletteStar1



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Bedelia is a generous lover, Bedelia with a strap on, Bottom Hannibal, F/M, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Oysters, Pegging, implied Hannigram
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:47:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25108717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletteStar1/pseuds/ScarletteStar1
Summary: The one in which Bedelia pegs Hannibal, to help him remember or to help him forget. . .
Relationships: Bedelia Du Maurier/Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 14
Kudos: 65





	Peculiar Tastes

Hannibal’s lower lip poked out just a bit in concentration as he shucked the oysters. Bedelia took her wine to a corner of the kitchen island and observed. His hands worked with surgical precision, as they did with most everything in which he partook.

“Did you know oysters are still alive when you eat them?” He asked her.

“Truly?”

“Indeed.”

Bedelia brought her glass to her lips, drank and said, “What an arresting array of knowledge you offer me.” Her tone was cool, but she rolled the fact around like a glossy pearl in her mind, wondering at it, enjoying the smooth sensation of it.

“And with what did you occupy yourself today, Mrs. Fell?” He glanced up, smiled, but did not miss a beat in his process and slid another perfectly procured shell onto its bed of crushed ice, lemon wedges and greens.

“Little of this, little of that,” Bedelia answered. Hannibal paused, knife held aloft.

“You are a coy one, Lydia,” he winked and resumed his task.

“Does it not grow wearisome?”

“Hmm? What?”

“These people suits we’ve donned? Have you not grown weary of Lydia Fell, my dear doctor?”

“No. I don’t think I could ever grow weary of you,” Hannibal licked his lips and stepped into Bedelia’s space, close enough to nuzzle her, close enough for her to feel his erection against her leg, close enough for her to smell the brine on his fingers and on the knife he still held. Bedelia shivered, but not from fear. Glancing at the shimmering plate of oysters, she felt her legs quiver and her abdomen grew thick and heavy. “Hungry?” Hannibal whispered and she smelled ginger and garlic of whatever he’d prepared himself on his breath.

“Yes,” she said. Her back arched involuntarily and the urge to bite his lips clutched her heart and stopped it for a moment. “Famished. But I would not dine too heavily if I were you, dear husband.”

“Oh and why is that?”

“I bought you a gift today. I thought we might try it this evening.”

“Is that right?” The look on his face could be closest described as a smirk.

“Indeed,” Bedelia’s own lips stretched into something of a smile.

“What sort of gift might I expect?” Hannibal asked across the table. Bedelia watched him spear a piece of meat with his fork and slather it with a bit of sauce.

“You might expect something to cater to your peculiar tastes, Dr. Fell.”

“And to what might I owe such a gift?”

“Well, Doctor Fell might not tire of his darling wife, but I believe that beneath his suit, deep within Hannibal there is a longing for something more. Or, to better articulate, for someone more akin to his soul and deeper being.”

Hannibal’s jaw worked gently at the tender packet of flesh within his oral cavity. He held Bedelia’s gaze, and she noted that it was most certainly Hannibal and not Dr. Fell who peered back at her. Seeing as she’d captured the sticky amber interest of his attention, she made a show of tossing back her head and sucking down an oyster, which she hardly tasted for the headiness of her anticipation.

After a dessert of berries, cream, and champagne, she suggested he undress and wait for her in the bedroom. “Light some candles, if you desire,” she shrugged.

She prepared herself carelessly, as she knew too much care would ruin the glamor she hoped to spin for her charming man. When she was ready, her final touch was to twist open a bottle of cologne which corroded the air the moment it was uncorked. Wrinkling her nose, she dabbed just a bit in her armpits, in the hollows beside her thighs, and at the nape of her neck.

Hannibal lounged completely nude, like a languorous ginger cat, on their bed. Bedelia allowed her silk kimono to slip open so the prodigious prosthetic prick she’d strapped on could protrude and point wantonly, straight at her husband. Immediately, he noticed and sat up on his elbows. “Oh,” was all he murmured, but he licked his lips and blinked rapidly.

She took her cock in hand and stroked it lazily. It was the same, fair color of her skin with a duskier hue at the tip. Attached as it was to her by the black, satin harness, it struck quite an effect.

As she stepped closer, Hannibal’s nostrils twitched. Bedelia’s eyebrows rose as if to ask a question, silently and simultaneously with and without mercy. She watched him swallow and felt herself swell and moisten between her legs. The robe slipped off her shoulders and she stood before him, proud, erect, and utterly powerful. “May I?” She asked but she was already climbing on top of him. She mashed her breasts into the shimmering hair on his chest and lowered her hips so her member rubbed against his.

Hannibal twisted her hair in his fist, pulled her head back and inhaled deeply at her neck. A growl rose from his throat as he smelled her. In a graceful motion he overpowered and topped her, pulled her arms over her head and buried his nose in her armpits. He bit at the flesh between her breast and arm and moaned. “What on earth have you done, Lydia Fell?”

“Something,” she gazed at him; her eyes darted back and forth unable to focus on a certain spot on his face.

“But what? And why,” he murmured and licked her lips with his wet tongue. He took both their cocks in his hand and rubbed them together, then looked at her as if amused, as if he couldn’t decide if he would laugh or climax right then and there.

“To help you remember or forget, however you like,” Bedelia sighed and stroked her hands up in back and then down over his hips. “And I did it because in spite of myself, I like you, and I rather am enjoying our time here, dear Doctor.”

“Mmmmh, yes. You are a very obliging wife, Lydia.”

“So, what will it be. Remember, or forget?” She slipped her hand between his ass and was rewarded with a thrust of his cock against her belly.

He considered her with an intense, discerning stare. “Have you done this before?”

“I am doing it now.”

“Very well then,” he said and kissed her deeply prior to sliding off and lying on his stomach beside her. Without a moment’s hesitation, Bedelia sought the lube she’d stashed nearby and prepared herself and him. Watching as she slicked herself in a most lascivious manner, he thrust his hips up at her and widened his legs as if eager for her to enter him. Bedelia breached his entry while caressing the muscular globes of his ass in firm but tender hand. He was quite ready for her and it took barely any time for her to be sheathed to her hilt in his throbbing heat. Establishing a slow and steady rhythm, she watched his face slacken with lust. He closed his eyes and knit his brow as he focused on the sensation of her pulling out, pushing in, helping him find ecstasy and fail to remember pain.

She held her body back from his so as not to disrupt his reverie with the sensation of her breasts on his flesh, but could not resist asking, “Is it quite similar?”

“It’s marvelous,” he grunted, on all fours now and clawing at the pillows as she fucked away at him. A doctor herself, she was no stranger to anatomy and angled herself to hit the spot inside him that made him cry out suddenly, his voice husky and strange, like she’d never heard it before, and like she wanted to hear it always after.

“Would he take you faster and harder?” She sped slightly and pushed deeply into him.

“Oh my, yes,” he practically whimpered and Bedelia grinned wolfishly as she pounded into him. He looked back to see her at it and gasped, “I’ll cum. I’ll cum untouched like this.”

“Will you?”

“Mmmh,” he bucked back against her. She steadied herself by grabbing his hips. “I need it, oh yes, what you’re doing, my god!” She’d never heard him so desperate, so needful, so vulnerable.

“Call his name if you like when you finish, Hannibal,” she hissed and as though she’d granted him a wish or broken a spell, he writhed against her with a few savage groans.

“Will!” He called out and she felt him cum hard, pumping against her with each spurt.

Later, she curled against him and he asked what madness had possessed her.

“It was a rather sturdy gamble, Bedelia,” he mused with a yawn.

“You forget how long and how well I know you, Hannibal,” was all she said. She could not bear to tell him how his fevered dreams awoke her at night and she rose to watch sleep torture him. How like a boy he looked, hair falling in his face, as he grieved in his unconscious. She could not describe the pleasure she took in his pain, not the sheer delight in owning the power to relieve it, if only for an instant.

It was a mysterious joy, like knowing the oyster you eat is alive as your throat engulfs it.


End file.
